


A Love Set In Stone (V.2)

by SpaceJammie



Series: Just Two Versions Of The Same Fic [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Oikawa Tooru-centric, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Sad Oikawa Tooru, The author can stop crying now and get some sleep, This version is for those who want comfort after their pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29956662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceJammie/pseuds/SpaceJammie
Summary: Tooru is a sculptor, and is living what he thought would be his dream.But was it worth it to move away from the people he loves to accomplish his goal?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Just Two Versions Of The Same Fic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203242
Comments: 29
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was was inspired by [this art.](https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMerTW1KQ/)
> 
>   
> This is set in the 1800s, before electricity and all that. And telegrams charged by the word back then(so people would send the least words possible, and it was still hundreds of dollars). That will be relevant.
> 
> Please note:  
> The only difference between (V.1) of this fic and (V.2) is the last chapter.

Tooru was a sculptor. And he was a damn good one, in his opinion. That wasn’t him exaggerating or attempting to inflate his own ego, either. He’d worked hard for most of his life to gain his talent. 

There may have been others who’d shown promise and excelled faster than he did when he was younger. But in the end, he surpassed every single one of them. It was all thanks to his dedication, as well as the sacrifices that he’d made. And one of those sacrifices had been moving far away from his humble hometown of Seijoh to live in a bustling city, where there was a greater demand for art.

And he’d finally accomplished what he’d set out to do; he was now a renowned sculptor whose art was sought out by the richest of the rich, yet still appreciated by those who could never hope to afford him. The critics with the most discerning eye would let his name roll off their tongues when discussing the talented artists of the current age. There was no end to the requests for his sculptures. So he was at no loss for money, nor projects to occupy his time.

But it was lonely at the top, and it wasn’t what he was expecting it to be. Very few people seemed to care about him as a person; they only cared about what he could sculpt for them and how his art would impress their friends. Or they’d want to gain access to the aristocratic social circles he sometimes mingled with, so they’d seek him out under the guise of friendship. In his four years of living in his new city, he’d only met a handful of people who he’d consider trustworthy and loyal. Yet he’d gained countless false friends; those who would turn on him the moment he became irrelevant, and that truth was known to him without ever having heard it spoken aloud. 

Despite his current lack of true companionship, he’d once known friendship so deep and true that it still warmed his heart to think back on it. There were three boys he’d grown into adulthood with, and those men were alive and well. But they were also very far away; it would take a month of sailing to reach Seijoh, and it took just as long for letters to make it back and forth. Such was the standard in the mid 1800’s.

And so he would send a letter to them, which would arrive in a month if all went well. Then another month would pass before he got a reply. It was a hard thing for a man who was feeling alone in the world. In his last letter to Hajime, who was his closest friend, he’d vaguely expressed that he was struggling emotionally even though his success continued to bring him wealth and fame. But he was careful to specify that Hajime was ‘not to worry over the ramblings of an artist in a slump.’

And Tooru was indeed feeling as if he were in an art slump. Nonetheless, requests for his creations were never ending. He was booked out for years, but he still got letters asking for sculptures no matter how long of a wait was required. Despite that, he just couldn’t find inspiration for the pieces he was asked to create. 

No, that wasn’t right. There was inspiration all around him, and he always managed to finish the sculptures by the promised date. But he didn’t have fun with it anymore. It was as though he’d tasted success and found it to be bitterly unappealing. The more requests he got, and the busier he became, the less motivated he was to create. It had gotten to the point where he didn’t even want to be a sculptor anymore. And he never thought he’d feel that way; he’d always found such joy in bringing a slab of stone to life.

His change of heart had only been true for the past few months, and he couldn’t figure out what had triggered it. So he’d considered putting a stop to accepting new commissions altogether, and maybe even moving back to Seijoh; he had more than enough money to retire on. But when he mentioned that to one of his so-called friends, they went and told everyone about it. Because of that, he’d been offered ridiculous amounts of money for his sculptures due to the perception that they’d soon be even harder to acquire. So it seemed that limiting his availability only made people want his art more desperately. 

However, he was greatly struggling to find the drive and passion that he’d had since childhood. As things were now, he was left with an empty feeling when finishing a sculpture; it was as though he’d poured himself into his art, but without the exhilaration that usually went into it. So no matter how well the figure turned out once he finished chipping away at the stone, it just felt like some type of hideous reflection of how hollow he was inside. 

Yet his buyers were always happy with the sculptures, even if he himself couldn’t appreciate them. And their generous payments only helped to secure his future. So he’d reluctantly accepted that his life had been reduced to barely scraping by on the burnt out embers of his once fiery soul. Even though he was numb inside, he could still continue his work. 

His childhood friends, Takahiro and Issei, used to tease him about being lucky for finding a calling that wouldn’t even feel like true work. But perhaps turning his imagination into his source of income was what had killed the exuberance that he used to feel when sculpting. 

He missed the rush of happiness he used to experience when finding a face within the stone which he had been carefully chiseling away at. And he wanted to relive the thrill of completing the finishing touches on a sculpture that had fully taken over his every thought. He used to have such pride over his handiwork, but it had been months since he’d known that feeling. 

And that was what he was thinking about as he waited for the postman to deliver his mail. It had been just over two months since he’d sent his last letter to Hajime, so he desperately hoped there would finally be a letter from him today. He longed to see Hajime’s handwriting where the ink had bled into the paper. Whenever he read the words within those pages, he could picture exactly how Hajime would look and sound while saying them. It was a far cry from the comfort of seeing his best friend in person, but those letters had really kept him above the surface as he struggled to swim through his chosen life. 

As Tooru drank the last of his tea, he got up from his armchair and went to make himself a fresh cup. His home was a quaint one despite his wealth, and that was because he wanted a place he could maintain without hired help; he had grown up poor, and he had no desire to live luxuriously. So there was an open space with a living room, in which there were two armchairs and nothing else. That room connected to a kitchen, in which there was a small table with two chairs, a sink with no running water that had a drain leading outside, and a wood burning stove used for both cooking and heating. There was also one small bedroom, as well as a spacious workshop that was accessible from both inside and outside of the house.

Right as Tooru finished preparing his tea, the sound of something hitting the floor underneath the mailslot of the front door made him pause. He glanced over and saw that there were three different letters resting on the ground. So he rushed over and knelt down, gathering them into his hands as though they were both fragile and priceless. There on the top of the stack was a letter addressed to him in Hajime’s handwriting. But he wanted to savor that one, so he decided to read the others first as he brought them to the desk in his bedroom, along with his cup of tea.

The first was from Takahiro, who always sent flowery letters. It was a running joke between them since Tooru now mingled with high society despite coming from such a poor farming town.

_My dearest Tooru,_

_I greatly hope that this letter finds you thriving. As for myself, these days go by brightly. However, you were correct in what you deduced within your previous letter. Issei and I got into a fine row, though all is well now. I know not how you figured it out from only my one sided description of the event. How do you read others so well? I do believe you are as much a fae as you are a man._

_I have lost yet another job, if you can believe such a scandalous claim. And whatever it is that keeps going wrong completely escapes me. Maybe you should guess since you have such a way of reading things from afar. No need for concern, though, since Issei says I might be allowed to come work with him at the place with all the dead bodies. Gravedigger would be my position, he guessed. I cannot imagine what might get me discharged from such a job as that, so I believe it will be a turn of tides for yours truly. Perhaps I should have gone into the digging business in hot haste, rather than wait until I had so many failed endeavours. Alas, I cannot learn from my mistakes even the tenth time around. So we shall see how things go._

_Write back immediately, sweetheart, for you know how I worry about your fragile mind out there alone in the world (tone hides from written words, but rest assured that was said in jest)._

_Trust me to be looking for your return letter._

_Your oldest, wisest, and dearest friend,_

_Takahiro Hanamaki_

Tooru smiled as he finished reading Takahiro’s letter, then hurried to write out a reply while it was still fresh in his mind. 

_My darling Makki,_

_I take this moment to answer you without pause, since I know how you worry over my health._

_Of course I was correct about Issei, as I always am. Do you recall that there never came a time when I mistook what you were thinking? You wear your heart on your sleeve even in the written words you share so generously._

_And if I am a fae, then you are a troll. It takes not but a keen eye and a quick mind to discover what hides between the lines of written words, so you only fool yourself when you try to withhold the truth from me. There were spots on your last letter from dried tears, so I found it to be obvious that you had a row with Issei. Say it plainly next time, for I grow weary of piecing together your vague clues._

_As for your work, know that I despise those who do not value my friends. What need have you for a job where they cannot pull out the best of your abilities? Forget them all. But were I to say I envy you in your pursuit of gravedigging, it would be a falsehood. However, I do envy that you are there with our dear friends. My heart reaches towards you all, though my success here has been so great that I cannot hope to find time for a visit just yet._

_But all is well for me, so worry not. My time is filled and my hands stay busy. I have nothing else to report, so write back once this letter finds you. I will be eager to hear how you get on with the gravedigging._

_Your most wonderful friend,_

_Tooru Oikawa_

After Tooru sealed the letter, he set it aside and opened the next one; that would leave just Hajime’s to be read afterwards. And the second letter seemed to be from someone who’d had a sculpture done a few months earlier. 

_Honored Sir,_

_I earnestly hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to thank you once again for the sculpture you made of my partner and myself. The likeness is remarkable and I appreciate it daily. A man with your talent must be busy, so I will keep you no longer._

_Your grateful client_

_K.A._

Tooru reread the letter twice, and it sparked a tiny amount of brightness inside of him. He’d done that sculpture for a man named Keiji; it was of him and his lover. A male lover, which wasn’t something anyone would want widely known in those days. And it was with great caution that Keiji had even approached Tooru in the first place; he’d not thought that Tooru would be open to doing a sculpture of two men together, especially since so many of his sculptures were of women. But the reason for that only came down to the fact that many rich men seemed to want sculptures done of their wives or mistresses. A great majority of his commissions were works of that nature.

In reality, Tooru had done only a few sculptures of men. But he actually found more joy in that than in sculpting women. He figured he’d just grown tired of looking at naked women since he had to stare at them to sketch them before starting each sculpture; the process was never that exciting for him. However, it felt somewhat thrilling each of the times he’d viewed the men whom he was to sculpt, and he hadn’t figured out why that was. But something inside his heart had flickered when Keiji and his lover, Koutarou, had come to him for the sketch preceding their sculpture. Perhaps it was the fact that they had such a tragic love story; Keiji had to live up to his family's expectations as the hair of a wealthy estate, whereas Koutarou was lowborn and worked as a carpenter. But that was only a minor obstacle when compared to their main concern; two men could never openly be together and hope to survive it unscathed. Not in that day and age.

Tooru set Keiji’s letter aside in a drawer. He wanted to keep it, though he didn’t usually save letters unless they were from his close friends. But he’d also kept the sketch he’d done of the two men; they were holding each other in such a loving way, and the look of it made Tooru’s emotions stir around. True love was such a beautiful thing. As he considered it more deeply, he realized that particular sculpture had been the last one he’d done where there was enjoyment and satisfaction within the process; it was right afterwards when he seemed to have lost his spark. He decided he’d have to think about it further to discover why that was.

But that could wait for another time. So he closed the drawer that contained all his precious letters, then went to open the one from Hajime. 

_Dear Tooru,_

_From what you shared in your last letter, I can only assume that you are not doing well. Did you think you could hide from me with your “but no need for concern” and “all else aside, I am thriving.” Can you think of a single situation when hiding your pain from me worked in the past?_

_I have not half the time I used to, as my work wakes me early and keeps me late. But I have told my boss that I am leaving town after I finish this project. Then I am coming to stay with you whether you want me to or not, and I better find that you have been keeping your promise. I have arranged for passage on a ship in exactly four weeks from now._

_Once this letter gets to you, I will have just started out on my journey. So expect me in one month’s time._

_Your friend,_

_Hajime Iwaizumi_

Tooru read the letter over again just to be sure he’d not misunderstood it. And then he found himself crying tears of joy. He’d wanted to ask Hajime to come to him, but he felt it would be too selfish. Hajime had his job to worry about. And he’d also tried to water down his struggles when he shared them in his last letter. However, Hajime had seen right through it. 

And now Hajime was coming to stay with him. He’d finally get to see his best friend again after four long years of being apart. 

The thought of that filled Tooru with so much joy that he could hardly contain himself. He set the letter on his desk, then went to get himself dressed since he’d still been in just his nightshirt. Once he had a white shirt buttoned up, he pulled on a pair of brown trousers and then slipped some suspenders on over it. That was what he liked to sculpt in, and sculpting was what he intended to do.

The desire to surprise Hajime with something in return was what sparked Tooru’s current objective. He impulsively decided that he was going to make a sculpture of his friend. If he balanced his time carefully, he could finish it before Hajime arrived. And he was willing to bet that he could also complete the current sculpture that was due to be picked up in three weeks. It had been countless days since he’d had such a strong drive to create, and it was igniting his soul with the warmth of purpose. 

The first step to starting the sculpture was to sketch Hajime without reference, but that was no problem. Tooru had seen his friend’s body many times when they still lived near each other. Summers were hot in Seijoh, so they often swam together. And sometimes he still dreamed about swimming with Hajime even though it had been many years since then; he could always see the man’s body very clearly. 

He decided to do a shirtless version of Hajime since the man had a very nice physique. So he went to his desk and set to work on the sketch; he didn’t move until it was finished several hours later. Then he sat back to admire his drawing with a pleased smirk. It was going to be his best sculpture ever, of that he was sure. 

* * *

It had been exactly three weeks since Hajime’s letter, and Tooru had been laboring away from sunrise to sunset each day. His every waking thought was consumed with working on the sculpture of his best friend. However, he’d also made enough time for working on his commissioned piece. And he had finally finished it in the early hours of the morning on the very day it was to be picked up. Afterwards, he’d collapsed onto his bed with the intention of sleeping until the delivery men came to get the completed sculpture. 

During that exhausted slumber, Tooru had a dream that was incredibly vivid. He was with Hajime, and they were walking together in one of the fields within Seijoh. When they came to a flat spot under a tree, Hajime laid out a blanket. Tooru went to lay on the blanket, then reached a hand up towards Hajime, who took it with a grin and went to lay right beside him. There was a comfortable silence between them as they relaxed side by side. But then Hajime turned to Tooru, caressed his cheek, and leaned in to kiss him. 

That’s when Tooru sat up in bed, breathing heavily. Someone had been knocking on his front door, and the sound was what woke him. But he was feeling very confused over the dream he’d just had, so it took him a moment to gather his wits. 

He’d been kissed by Hajime. Only in a dream, of course. But it had felt very real and surprisingly wonderful. He wished he could go back to sleep and pick up right where he and Hajime had left off. But then another knock sounded on his front door. So he quickly climbed out of bed and went to get dressed. Once he was decent, he went to the front door and opened it. 

There at the door stood Daichi Sawamura, who did most of the deliveries for Tooru’s artwork. And Koushi Sugawara was with him. The two of them were very reliable, and Tooru trusted them completely. Many of his false friends were wealthy aristocrats or those who hoped to become that way, so he was required to follow strict social etiquette when interacting with that type. But both Koushi and Daichi had come from lower-class families, like Tooru himself. So he could speak casually with them, which was much more comfortable. 

“Hello, boys,” Tooru said with a friendly grin. “My apologies for the wait. You caught me in the middle of a nap, so I’m a little unkempt.”

Koushi gave a prankish grin. “We would’ve never said anything, but you do look like you’ve only just rolled out of bed.”

“Don’t tell him that,” Daichi said in a hushed tone as he nudged Koushi. “He’s basically our boss.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Tooru said with a wink. “You know I’m not like the stuffy people you deliver my work to. And I like to think of us as friends, really.”

Daichi gave a slight bow. “Still, we owe you our respect. You’ve always treated us kindly.”

“And you pay us way too much,” Koushi teased. 

“Respect me by coming to admire my work,” Tooru said as he moved out of the doorway. “And anyway, I’m not the one who pays you. Not really. I’ve always included a delivery fee when I’m negotiating a price for my sculptures.”

Koushi stepped inside as he spoke. “You’ve always charged generously on our behalf, then.”

“Yes, and we appreciate that,” Daichi said as he stomped his work boots to shake the dust off before coming into the house. 

“Think nothing of it,” Tooru said as he waved a hand dismissively and shut the door. Then he led them through the house towards his workshop. “The two of you are more loyal than any of my other so-called friends around here.”

“Oh, those are bitter words,” Koushi said with a curious tilt of his head. “Who’s been putting worms in your apples?”

“Only most everyone,” Tooru replied jokingly as he opened the door that led to his workshop. It was a large room with several work benches covered in tools. And there was a completed sculpture in the middle of the room, as well as the half finished sculpture of Hajime off to one side. 

“This is the one you’ll be delivering to the Shimizu estate,” Tooru said as he gestured towards the completed sculpture. It was of a beautiful woman in a flowing dress, and every detail was perfected.

“Your handiwork is very good,” Daichi said as he stepped closer to the work of art to examine it. “And it looks as though it would be just about the size of the woman herself.”

Tooru nodded as he watched Daichi admire the fruits of his labor; he was feeling pride in his work for the first time in a while. “I believe I got the dimensions as close to accurate as possible. Not that I pulled out a ruler, or anything. I’ve just got a good eye for it.”

Meanwhile, Koushi had walked over to the sculpture of Hajime. “Now that’s one handsome chunk of rock. But you don’t often sculpt men, let alone naked ones,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he glanced from the sculpture to Tooru. 

“Oh, actually… that’s a personal project,” Tooru said in an unintentionally awkward tone. His ears went red, and he wasn’t sure why he was feeling so flustered at the moment. This wasn’t the first male he’d sculpted, nor was it the first one Koushi and Daichi had seen. They’d been the ones to deliver the sculpture for Keiji and Koutarou under a promise of strict secrecy. So it shouldn't be an oddity for them to see him working on another sculpture of a man.

Koushi seemed to pick up on Tooru’s sudden blush, and was willing to bring it up without any worry about decorum. “I’ve never seen you with that expression on your face. Is this a man you know, or just a fantasy?”

“He’s a friend of mine,” Tooru mumbled as he went to get a sheet so that he could cover the sculpture. For some reason, he didn’t want anyone else looking at Hajime’s bare body, even if it was just a stone version of it.

“ _Only_ a friend?” Koushi asked in a tone that suggested he didn’t believe Tooru at all. 

Daichi went to nudge Koushi while whispering sternly. “That’s an inappropriate question. We have no business prying into his private life.”

Tooru had just finished covering Hajime’s stone body with a large sheet, so he turned and gave a confident grin to cover his unexpectedly self-conscious reaction to the situation. “Yes, just a friend. I’m not _that way_.”

Koushi seemed to prickle at Tooru’s words. “You make it sound like there’s something wrong with being _that way,_ which I wouldn’t have expected from you. I thought you were more accepting.”

“It’s not our concern what his personal opinions are, and you know that,” Daichi said as he gently put a hand on Koushi’s shoulder, though he very briefly glanced at Tooru with a disappointed expression. 

Tooru then realized the implications of what he’d said, and he tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean to suggest there’s anything wrong with being _that way._ I just… you caught me off guard. I didn’t… I’ve never considered whether...” he trailed off when he realized he didn’t know exactly what he meant to say.

Koushi studied Tooru’s face carefully for a moment, then his mood suddenly lightened. “Oh. _oh._ I see. Well, I hope to meet this _friend_ of yours one day. He seems very important to you.”

“Yes, he is,” Tooru said quietly. It seemed like the assumptions had swung from one side to the other rather abruptly. But he didn’t want to speak about it anymore; he was feeling deeply unsettled for some reason. So he cleared his throat and put on a self-assured air. “Well, I’ll leave the heavy lifting to you two, if that’s alright.”

Daichi nodded and seemed ready to move the conversation along as much as Tooru himself. “We’ll take care of it.”

“If you ever need to talk to someone, I hope you feel you can rely on us,” Koushi said as he gave Tooru a look of sincerity. “I’m sure you’ve got others you seek out for support, but there’s some things we can’t talk about with just anyone, you know?”

Tooru studied Koushi’s face for a moment. The silver haired man was hinting at something that made the uncomfortable feeling inside him intensify. He couldn't put his finger on the cause, but he kept thinking back to the dream he’d had of Hajime kissing him. And it was muddling his thoughts, so he hurried to end the conversation. 

“I appreciate the offer... I’ll get the door,” Tooru said as walked over to slide open the rolling door on the back wall of the room. 

With that, Daichi and Koushi worked to lift the sculpture. The two men carefully carried it out of the building and around the house, then loaded it into their horse-drawn wagon. Koushi threw a sheet over it before he tied it down securely.

Tooru had walked out to the wagon with them, and he watched Koushi move to sit beside the sculpture while Daichi went to sit behind the horses. He felt a sense of accomplishment for finishing the project, though it was the lingering excitement over Hajime’s upcoming visit that had really helped bring his full effort forward. And he still had a few weeks before he needed to start his next scheduled commission, which meant he could focus solely on the sculpture of Hajime in the meantime. 

Once the wagon was so far up the road that it was out of sight, Tooru turned and walked around the house to go into his workshop through the large sliding door. He closed it behind himself before letting out a long sigh; there was always a sense of relief once he was done with a sculpture. 

Before he let himself do anything else, he went to his kitchen to eat a few apples and the last of his bread. He needed some fuel before diving back into sculpting Hajime any further. There had been times in the past when he’d go all day without eating thanks to being caught up in a project, but that was when he was still living in Seijoh. Because of that type of thing, Hajime had made him promise to eat regularly and take care of himself when he moved away. And Tooru had always kept that promise. 

After his bare minimum meal, he went out to his workshop and pulled the blanket off of the stone version of Hajime. Then he leaned down and carefully moved it into the middle of the room so that it had his full focus. He took a moment to appreciate how far he’d come in completing it as a warm smile spread across his lips. Being able to see Hajime in just a week's time was keeping him going, and he felt sure he could finish the sculpture by then. 

He gathered his tools and started to chisel out details along Hajime’s arms. He spent several hours working on it, until his own arms were aching too badly to continue. So it was time to take a break. As he wiped some sweat from his forehead with one sleeve, he studied the overall look of the sculpture. 

The chest and back were well finished, but everything below Hajime’s waist was still within untouched stone. Tooru had actually decided he would just leave it that way, because some part of him shied away from the idea of chiseling out Hajime’s more private parts; he wasn’t sure why that was, though. He’d seen it many times, and had even included it in his reference sketch. But he just didn’t feel like he could do it. So his intent was to make the upper half of Hajime’s body look beyond perfect while leaving the bottom half a mystery. 

Tooru’s eyes moved along one of the stone arms; he’d made it so Hajime was reaching out for something with one hand. Then without knowing why, he went and pressed his hand against the stone one. He even intertwined his fingers with it. And it was at that moment when his dream about Hajime came back to him once again. So he closed his eyes as he remembered the way Hajime had been so close to him in his dream, and how he’d so gently kissed him. While that image was still in his mind, Tooru brought a hand up to his lips and brushed his fingers over them softly. He wondered what it would be like to kiss the real Hajime. 

When he suddenly became aware of what he was doing, he dropped his hand down and turned away from the statue, as if embarrassed that the likeness of Hajime had witnessed his actions. He didn’t understand what was driving his peculiar thoughts and confusing feelings. He thought it might just be his longing for the days he used to spend with his friend that was fueling it all. But whatever it was, he needed to sort it out before Hajime arrived. Because Hajime would absolutely be able to tell if something weird was going on with him. Then he would directly ask about it and refuse to drop the subject until the truth came out. 

However, Tooru didn’t know what exactly that truth would even be, and he couldn’t very well come out with some truth when he wasn’t even sure of what it was. 

All the thinking was tiring him out, so he sighed and ran a hand over his face before deciding a nap was necessary. So he left his work shop and went to lay on his bed despite being fully clothed. Sleep took him before five minutes had passed, and his weary mind finally had the chance for a rest. 

But once again, he dreamed of Hajime. It was just as vivid as last time. They were walking together along a beach, and it seemed like Hajime was talking. But Tooru couldn’t hear him. In fact, the only thing he could hear in his dream was the sound of the waves, which were louder than they should have been. Then Hajime turned and pulled Tooru into a tight hug; it really felt like it was happening. 

When Hajime stepped out of the hug, he leaned back in to kiss Tooru softly. But it was briefer than Tooru would have liked. Afterwards, Hajime flashed the kind and tender grin that he only ever gave when no one else was around them. Tooru had always thought of that smile as just for him. 

The sound of someone knocking on his door pulled Tooru away from that pleasant dream. He reluctantly opened his eyes and frowned; it seemed like everyone was out to ruin his sleep quality, as well as the dreams that were only serving to confuse him more and more. But there was a part of him that was realizing he may feel differently about Hajime than he thought. Maybe it wasn’t friendship that he wanted from Hajime. Maybe he wanted to have the tender intimacy that he had witnessed between Keiji and Koutarou. Maybe… he was in love with his best friend. 

But that wasn't a thought to be taken lightly, and there wasn’t time for proper consideration about it at present. 

When he sat up, he realized it was late evening based on the soft light from sunset that was coming in from his bedroom window, which meant he had slept for several hours. He groaned as he got up from his bed and shuffled out of his room. Once he reached the front door, he opened it and peeked outside. But no one was there. However, there was a small piece of paper on the floor. 

Tooru closed the door, then reached down to pick up the paper. It looked like a telegram. Whichever delivery boy had brought it must have grown tired of waiting, though customarily the recipient should have been handed the telegram directly. 

He rarely ever got telegrams since they were very expensive, costing between hundreds and thousands of dollars for just a few words. And his friends in Seijoh were not well off financially, so he knew they wouldn’t have sent it. There was the possibility that it was a request for a commission from someone overseas. But it was too dark to see well in the entryway, so he walked back into his bedroom to read it in the light of the window near his bed, which had the most sunlight at dusk. He held the paper up in front of himself and squinted at it as he read the short message.

**_Hajime gone. Ship sank. So sorry._ **

**_Issei_ **

Tooru dropped the telegram as if it had burned his fingers. Then he started shaking his head as he backed away from where it had fallen on the floor beside his bed. “No. No, no, no….”

The room suddenly felt too small, so he clawed at his shirt to unbutton it because he felt like it was suffocating him. But the shirt made no real difference; his breathing was going too quickly, and he couldn’t slow it down even after his shirt was fully unbuttoned. 

Soon the hyperventilation turned into sobs that racked his body. He’d backed into the wall, where he sagged against it as he hugged his arms around his waist. It felt like his world had just shattered. His purpose was fading right along with the last rays of sunlight; the world would be dark soon, just like his life. A world without Hajime was nothing more than a meaningless dreamscape.

And he couldn’t bear the feeling of guilt that was enveloping him; Hajime had only been on that ship thanks to his last letter. He wished he hadn’t shared how hard things were for him. And if he was honest with himself, he knew he’d been hoping that Hajime would come to him if he knew he was struggling. But now he regretted it so deeply that it made him want to scream.

So he did. 

He screamed as the painful feeling in his chest became more and more unbearable. He screamed as his nails cut into his palms from how tightly he was clenching his fists. He screamed until his throat burned and his lungs ached. And then he collapsed on the floor, weeping uncontrollably as the night passed him by. 

It was dawn when he finally stopped crying, yet his heart ached with a sorrow that felt as if it would never fade. As he finally stood up from where he had spent the night in a crumbled mess on the floor, he remembered the sculpture. So he stumbled to his workshop and fell to the floor in front of Hajime’s stone image. As he looked up at it, he started weeping again. The stone figure was nothing compared to the man himself. And it could never give him the tender smile that Hajime had only ever shown to him, and him alone. 

And it was at that moment when he knew for sure he’d been in love with Hajime. And as he thought back on his life, he realized that he’d given up much more than he’d intended when he left Seijoh in search of glory. 

Hajime had always been beside him, supporting him though everything as they grew up together. But he’d left that behind, and for what? 

The existence ahead of him was desolate without Hajime. And he’d been too dense to realize that his longing for Hajime’s love was what had taken the joy out of his sculpting. He’d only needed to be with Hajime once again to rekindle his creative flame; the spark of his passion was from Hajime himself.

But it was gone now. It was never coming back. _Hajime_ was never coming back. And Tooru couldn’t endure the way that made him feel. 

He laid down on the cold ground of his workshop, then pulled at one of the sheets used for covering his work until it completely covered him. He didn’t want to feel, he didn’t want to think, he didn’t want to move, and he didn’t want to exist. 

And for the first time, he broke the promise he’d made to Hajime in which he’d said he would make sure to take care of himself. 

  
  


* * *

**-Three Weeks Earlier-**

Hajime was bidding farewell to Issei and Takahiro before he left to catch the ship that would be taking him to Tooru.

“So are you ready for a four week voyage?” Issei asked as he finished hugging Hajime. 

Takahiro spoke before Hajime could answer. “More importantly, are you finally going to tell Tooru how you feel about him?”

Hajime blushed slightly as he replied. “I guess it’s about time, isn’t it?”

Takahiro nodded enthusiastically. “ _Way_ past time, but yes!” 

“Better late than never,” Issei added with a playful wink.

Hajime grinned sheepishly. “Alright, get off my ass about it. I’ll do it, okay? I’ll tell Tooru that I’m in love with him.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Tooru used to be a sculptor. But he wouldn’t call himself that any more. No, he would never call himself that again. At least that’s what he told himself as he laid on the floor of his workshop. He’d stayed there for days. How many passed, he couldn’t say. But he was prepared to stay there until his body failed him. And he would have, too. 

However, there was a knock at his door on the third or fourth day. He didn’t move to answer it. Instead, he stayed under the sheet where he’d been hiding from the world and the stone image of Hajime above him. But the knocking continued, and soon he could hear a familiar voice calling his name. He was so delirious that he couldn’t put a name to the voice. It was enough to get him to move, though. 

He crawled all the way to his front door, where the knocking was sounding off persistently. Someone was there to be seen. And whoever it happened to be wasn’t willing to leave before that happened. 

Tooru reached up and pulled the door open from the floor; he was too dizzy from dehydration to be able to stand. 

“I’ve brought the delivery slip from the other day, I forgot to... good heavens, you look awful,” Koushi said as he looked at Tooru with a frown. Then he knelt down and put a hand to his forehead. “Are you ill?”

Tooru didn’t answer. He let his hand drop from the door handle and crumpled further down onto the floor. Deep down, he’d been wishing it was Hajime who’d come to his door so insistently. In comparison, Koushi was a great disappointment. Tooru didn’t want to see him, or anyone else. He just wanted to be alone.

Koushi didn’t accept the refusal to socialize. He confidently stepped inside, then closed the door behind himself. “You’re obviously unwell, and it was just a few days ago that you yourself claimed to think of me as a friend. Since I feel the same towards you, I’ll take it upon myself to do something about your current state. And I’ll start with a cup of tea, so excuse me as I go through your things.”

With that, Koushi went to the kitchen and started a fire in the stove to heat up some water. But there was none available; the bucket for storing water was empty. So he picked it up and walked back towards the front door, stepping over Tooru’s body as he went. 

“I’m going to the well for some water. I’ll be right back, so don’t you go anywhere,” Koushi said in an attempt at humor, though he gave Tooru a concerned glance before going outside. 

Koushi soon returned with a bucket full of water. He set it on the floor beside the kitchen table, then filled a cup before going to Tooru’s side. “I think some plain water before tea would be best. Sit up, would you?”

Tooru didn’t move to sit up, nor did he answer. He didn’t want water. And he didn’t want to be cared for. All he wanted was for the painful feeling in his heart to stop eating away at him. 

“You know, I grew up on a farm,” Koushi said as he reached for the back of Tooru’s neck and gripped it firmly. “I know how to make stubborn animals take their feed, and I can certainly make a stubborn man drink some water.”

There was still no reply from Tooru as he limply allowed Koushi to pull him up by his nape and tilt his head back. He was too weak to fight the efforts. And he didn’t resist when Koushi brought the cup to his lips and poured some water in, though he did slightly gag on it because his mouth and throat were painfully dry; the water ached as it went down. 

“That’s the way,” Koushi said as he poured more water into Tooru’s mouth. And he kept going, bit by bit, until the cup was empty. “Since you've not got a fever, at least not anymore, I can only assume you’ve just gotten over being sick.”

Tooru didn’t speak. He didn’t have the will or the words available to him to do so. Instead, he glanced at Koushi weakly, and his eyes spoke for him.

Koushi stared at Tooru for a long moment, then let out a soft hum of understanding. “Not sickness, then, but sadness.”

Despite Tooru thinking he’d drained all his tears in those first couple days, a few managed to slip out as he glanced away from Koushi and looked fixedly at the wall behind him. 

“Feed a cold, starve a fever and rest a heartbreak,” Koushi said as he slipped his arms around Tooru’s waist, making an effort to lift him. “Come along, my friend. I’ll help you to bed.”

Without putting up a fight, Tooru allowed Koushi to help him to his room. But when he saw the telegram, which was still sitting on the floor beside his bed, a sob bubbled up in his chest. He made a gasping noise as he fought against it; he didn’t think he could make it through anymore anguish.

Koushi seemed to notice what Tooru had seen. So after he helped him onto the bed, he went to grab the telegram, then read it silently. Afterwards, he glanced at Tooru with a gentle expression before moving to sit beside him. He astutely recognized the connection between the sculpture that Tooru had been flustered over and the telegram in his hand. 

“The man you’re sculpting… he’s the one from this telegram, isn’t he?”

Tooru nodded weakly as more sobs built up inside of him. But he was still too dehydrated to produce much in the way of actual tears, so his gasps and cries were as dry as his cracked lips.

Koushi didn’t speak again for a long time. However, he did rest a hand on Tooru’s back. 

As Tooru wrestled with his emotions, he wished that Koushi would just leave. He didn’t want to be seen in the unbecoming state that he was currently in. But there was a small part of him that was grateful for the hand resting on his back, silently assuring him that he wasn’t as alone as he felt. 

When his breathing finally evened out, his eyes fluttered before closing. He was so incredibly tired. So much so that he would have fallen asleep immediately, had Koushi not chosen to speak at that moment. 

“I imagine you’ve not been eating these past few days. So I think I’ll fetch some food from my place after I make you that cup of tea,” Koushi said kindly as he stood up. 

Tooru was both silent and still; he’d briefly opened his eyes when Koushi spoke, but closed them again once the man left the room. And then he drifted away into a dream of a memory that was very precious to him.

Hajime was with him, and they were sitting together in a grassy meadow behind the house he'd grown up in. They were both twenty years old, and it was just hours before Tooru was set to leave for his new life across the ocean. 

There seemed to be something Hajime wanted to say. But he’d open his mouth to speak, then close it again before he actually said anything. 

So Tooru teased him about it, naturally. “Cat got your tongue, Hajime?”

“I’m only thinking,” Hajime said gruffly as he spun some dried grass between two fingers. 

“Oh, now that’s a rare thing,” Tooru said with a playful grin. “What’s got your mind laboring away?”

Hajime scowled at Tooru before shoving him, which knocked him over into the grass. “Why would I tell a ratbag like you about my inner workings?”

“Inner workings?” Tooru giggled as he sat back up and threw a handful of grass at Hajime. “You’ve got inner workings, do you? That would make a stuffed bird laugh, and no mistake.”

“You’re unbearable,” Hajime replied as he hooked his arm around Tooru’s neck and pulled him closer to ruffle his hair with his knuckles. 

Tooru squirmed until he was finally released, then tossed his hair and crossed his arms. “You’re supposed to treat a friend nicely before they go away for a long time. It’ll be years before we see each other again, likely as not. Or maybe I’ll just stay away forever to spare your _inner workings_ from my _unbearable_ presence.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Hajime said as he elbowed Tooru irritably. But after a moment, his expression softened. “And spare me from hearing you say you’ll never come home again.”

“Just tell me why you’re all poked up,” Tooru insisted as drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“I’m… worried about you,” Hajime said as he looked down. “I’ve got half a mind to tell you not to go.”

Tooru hummed quietly as he studied Hajime's veiled expression. “If I stayed today, you’d just sour on me tomorrow. You’re as fickle as they come. It was only yesterday when you were saying how proud you are that I’m setting off to make my mark on the world.”

“I _am_ proud of you,” Hajime said with a reddening face as he turned towards Tooru. Then he looked back down at his own hands, which were fiddling with a loose string on his trousers. “But who’s to say you’ll not go forgetting to eat, or give up sleep until you’re ready to drop, if I’m not there to keep you in check.”

“You’ve got _such_ confidence in me,” Tooru mumbled as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve not done any of that in a long while.”

Hajime gave a look that was both skeptical and concerned. “It was just three days ago when you last collapsed from exhaustion.” 

Tooru waved a hand dismissively as he stretched his legs out in front of himself. “Oh, that. I just had to finish that project up before I left. So I worked a little harder than usual.”

“I need you to make me a promise,” Hajime said in a serious tone as he looked at Tooru. 

Tooru could hardly meet Hajime’s gaze; the sincerity within his eyes was mixed with something else, and it was making him unexplainably nervous. “Like what?”

There was a moment of silence before Hajime replied, though he kept on looking at Tooru with a piercing gaze all the while. His voice was both tender and pleading when he finally spoke. “Promise me that you’ll eat regularly, rest when you’re tired, and take care of yourself as if your life is more precious than anything else.”

Tooru’s ears went red as a blush dusted his face. In all his years of being friends with Hajime, he’d never heard him talk in such a vulnerable way. 

Hearing Hajime speak with such genuine concern left Tooru speechless. 

As the silence grew heavier, Hajime cleared his throat as he finally broke eye contact and looked away. “Are you going to promise, or what?”

Tooru swallowed the unknown emotions that were welling up in his heart. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, and decided to avoid it. He put on a playful smile as he spoke in the most lighthearted voice he could muster. “You’ve asked too much of me. Pick just one of those things, then maybe I’ll promise.”

Hajime glanced back at Tooru with a slightly irritated frown, but his tenderness and sincerity remained. “I’m not letting you leave here unless you make that promise to me.”

Tooru desperately wanted to escape at that moment; the way Hajime was looking at him felt overwhelming. He wished Hajime would stop, so he tried to make a joke to lighten the mood. “You won’t _let_ me? What, are you going to tie me up to keep me from going?”

Hajime suddenly shoved Tooru onto the ground, sat on top of him, and pinned him down by his wrists. “I’m being serious right now.”

The feeling of Hajime straddling his body was making it hard to think, and Tooru didn’t feel like he could handle it for even one more second. So he spat the words out as he struggled against Hajime’s hold. 

“Fine! I promise!”

“Promise what?” Hajime asked as he continued to hold Tooru down. “Say it out loud.”

“I promise… to eat, rest, and take care of myself,” Tooru grumbled as he watched Hajime’s heavy gaze start to lighten. 

“As if your life is more precious than anything else,” Hajime said softly as he released Tooru’s wrists and went to get off of him.

Tooru found himself blushing deeply at that point, and so he rolled onto his side on the grassy ground to hide his face.

But Hajime walked around Tooru’s body and squatted down so that they could see each other. Then he gave the grin that he only ever showed to Tooru; the one that was kind and tender. “I know you’d never break a promise. So I’ll be able to rest easy now that I know you’ll be looking after yourself.”

And then Tooru woke up from the dream with a pained gasp. It had been exactly as that day had happened, but now there was a much more sorrowful shade to it. And he felt guilt rising up as he realized he’d broken that promise by letting himself wallow in misery for days on end. 

His breath quickened as though he were going to start sobbing again, but a hand on his shoulder made him jump in surprise. It was enough to pull him away from the mental images of his dream and the emotions that were scraping at his insides. 

“Have something to eat,” Koushi said as he offered a plate with bread and dried fruits. “I’ve just gotten back from my place, and I brought some things for you that can be eaten without much preparation. There’s more of it out on your table.”

With the promise he’d made to Hajime fresh in his mind, Tooru took the plate and picked up the bread. The thought of letting himself wither away wasn’t one he’d allow himself to think anymore. But as he nibbled at the bread, he pictured Hajime’s smile after the man said he could rest easy. And it was enough to cause tears to well up in his eyes.

“You were sleeping when the tea was done earlier, so it’s cold now,” Koushi said as he stood up and left the room. Then he returned with two cups; one held tea, and the other held water. He set them both on the floor beside the bed.

Tooru looked at Koushi as he sniffled and worked at his food. He didn’t know what he should say. ‘Thank you,’ would probably be a good start, but he couldn’t find his voice. His throat was tight from trying to hold back his tears; it was already hard enough to get the bread down. 

But Koushi didn’t seem to be waiting on spoken words. He just sat on the edge of the bed and gave Tooru a thoughtful look, then spoke in a kind voice. “I can bring supper by for you most nights, and refill your water bucket while I’m here. Just let me know if there’s anything else you need.”

A slight nod was Tooru’s response as he took another bite of bread; eating it was whetting his appetite, which made his stomach growl loudly. 

Koushi gave a slight grin. “Daichi’s at our place finishing up supper. He’ll be bringing it over as soon as it’s done.”

Tooru glanced at Koushi with a curious look. He hadn’t realized that Daichi and Koushi lived together, and Koushi seemed to understand his confusion. 

“We’re _that way,_ Daichi and I. We’ve been together a long time now,” Koushi said as he glanced from Tooru’s face down to his own hands. “The other day… well, I apologize for assuming you had a problem with it. I didn’t realize you were _that way,_ also.”

Tooru almost broke his long silence just to say, ‘I’m not _that way._ ’ But he realized it would be a lie. Because he really was _that way_ for Hajime; he’d just been too foolish to realize it until it was too late. And that thought made the urge to cry come on even stronger. His throat became much tighter because of that, so he set his plate on his lap and then leaned over to get the cup of tea from the floor. His vision blurred as he drank it thanks to the tears gathering in his eyes. 

Koushi reached out to put a hand on Tooru’s shoulder. “Do you want to tell me about him?”

Tooru did want to talk about Hajime, he decided. So he ran his thumb along the edge of his cup while deciding what he would say about Hajime if he were to describe him. But there was only one thing he could think to say, and he finally broke his long silence to speak it out loud. 

“Hajime was the best person I’ve ever known,” he said in a trembling voice. “And… I loved him.”

Koushi squeezed Tooru’s shoulder. “I’m sure he felt the same about you.”

“I never got to tell him,” Tooru whispered as his tears began to flow freely. “It’s been years since I last saw him. And I’ll never…” 

He couldn’t say the rest of it. ‘I’ll never get to see him again,’ was what he meant to say. Instead, he set the cup back down and buried his face in his hands as sobs shook him. It all hurt so badly. His heart, his mind, and his body. 

Koushi was silent as Tooru got his feelings out. 

About thirty minutes passed before Daichi called out as he came into the house. “Tooru? Koushi? I’ve brought supper.”

“Let’s get some proper food into you,” Koushi said as he stood up. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, after all.”

Tooru nodded silently as he wiped his face on his sleeve and went to get out of bed. He _did_ have to take care of himself. Hajime wouldn’t be able to rest easy, otherwise. 

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Tooru was ready to sculpt again after having taken a full month to rest. And he decided that he’d finish the sculpture of Hajime before doing anything else. He needed to see it as a completed piece; he’d poured his heart into that likeness of Hajime, and it felt like his love was now set in stone.

But he hadn’t actually stepped foot in his workshop at all during that month-long break. It was just too painful. Instead, he’d spent a lot of time with Koushi and Daichi. They’d become good friends to him; he wouldn’t have made it through his grief without their support. And he’d always be grateful to them for helping him keep his promise to Hajime. 

As he walked into his workshop in the early hours of the morning, he paused to look at the light shining through the window, which illuminated Hajime’s image as though the sun was shining just for him. It was breathtaking. 

Then he went to pick up his tools and took a moment to appreciate the weight of the pick in one hand and the mallet in his other. They were like an extension of his body; he’d missed the feeling of holding them. And he’d been longing to use them even before he’d finally found the will to do so. It seemed that he could never give up sculpting, and now he was ready to use his skill to perfect his most precious work of art. 

He stepped up to the sculpture of Hajime and went to carefully add detail to the face; it was the part that was closest to being finished. But as he chipped away at the stone, tears came to his eyes. The ache from losing the real Hajime was still as painful as it had been a month ago, and he didn’t know if that feeling would ever go away. 

But part of him hoped that it never would. If he ever went a day without feeling sad over losing Hajime, it would feel like he’d forgotten him. And he never wanted to forget his best friend, who he’d loved more than anyone else.

He smiled through his tears as he wondered what Hajime would have said if he’d ever told him that he was in love with him. Perhaps he would have rolled his eyes. Or maybe he would have laughed, thinking it was a joke. But then again... he might have said, ‘I love you, too.’

With a sniffle, he wiped his face on his sleeve and then went on working. He spent several hours chiseling at the sculpture while thinking back on all his favorite memories from the childhood he’d spent with Hajime. It was bittersweet, and he knew he’d always carry his best friend in his heart. 

When his stomach growled from hunger, he finally set down his tools to take a break. Then he stepped back to look at his sculpture appreciatively. It was coming along nicely, and would likely be complete within the week. Tooru’s sense of purpose was still there, though different than before; instead of wanting to surprise Hajime, he now wanted to capture the man’s image in stone so that he could outlast death and live on forever. 

  
  


Tooru left his workshop and walked into the main room of the house, then noticed a letter under the front door which had been slipped through the mailslot. So he picked it up and went to sit at the kitchen table to read it. 

It was from Issei; he must have written just after the telegram was sent for the letter to have arrived one month later.

_Dear Tooru,_

_I apologize for the abrupt telegram. It must have come as such a shock for you to find out that way. It was certainly hard for us when we received news that Hajime’s ship sank half way through his journey._

_Takahiro and I are both worried over you. Hajime would have wanted you to care for yourself, so I hope you are doing alright. I wish we lived closer so that a visit would be possible, as we cannot afford to come to you. But please know that you can come to us at any time and we will welcome you with open arms and a place to stay._

_Please write me back as soon as you can so that I know you are alright._

_Your friend,_

_Issei Matsukawa_

It was emotional to read Issei's words. And Tooru was debating whether he should write a response before or after cooking lunch when he heard a knock on his door. There was a good chance it was Koushi, so he decided to wait to write it until later.

“Come in!” Tooru called as he set the letter down and went to start a fire in the stove. 

The door opened and closed, then a familiar voice spoke. “Do you let just anyone walk in here?”

Tooru quickly turned around and was met with a sight that almost made him collapse. There stood Hajime. The real, living, breathing Hajime. And he was giving a playful grin.

“I know I’m later than I said I would be,” Hajime said when Tooru gave no response to his teasing. But his eyebrows furrowed as Tooru started crying. “I thought you’d be glad to see me. Didn't you get my letter saying I was coming?”

As Tooru walked towards Hajime, he covered his mouth with one hand to hide his quivering frown. Then he reached out to touch Hajime’s chest; he couldn’t trust what he was seeing, and he almost expected his hand to go right through the man. But it didn’t. He could feel Hajime’s heart beating as he laid his hand over it. He was really, truly alive. 

“I thought…” Tooru could hardly speak. “I thought the ship….”

Hajime’s expression softened as he went to pull Tooru into a hug. “I had some trouble getting here. But I said I would come, and nothing was going to stop me.”

Tooru leaned into the embrace and let Hajime support his weight as he cried against his shoulder. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he choked out.

“I’m sorry,” Hajime murmured as he held Tooru tightly. “I got here as soon as I could.”

Tooru pressed his face into Hajime’s neck and gripped the back of his shirt tightly. He was so overwhelmed with relief and happiness that he could hardly keep himself standing. Holding Hajime in his arms was better than anything he could have ever dreamed; now he could finally sleep soundly again for the first time since he'd gotten the telegram.

They were silent as they stood in the doorway holding each other, until Hajime finally cleared his throat. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I told myself I’d say it right away.”

Tooru sniffled and kept his face pressed against Hajime’s neck; it was warmly comforting. “What is it?” 

But Hajime didn’t speak immediately. And the silence went on long enough for Tooru to pull back and look at Hajime’s face; it was red, and he was glancing away awkwardly. 

That suddenly reminded Tooru about his feelings for Hajime. And he was getting the impression that Hajime just might feel the same way. In fact, the signs had been there even when they were much younger, he just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it back then. So he stepped out of Hajime’s embrace and wiped his face on his sleeve; he wanted to be the one who said it first. 

“Hajime,” Tooru said as he mustered his confidence. “I love you.”

Hajime’s eyebrows rose and his blush got darker. Then he broke out in a wide grin; it was a flustered version of the one that Tooru had always known was just for him.

Tooru took Hajime’s reaction as a good sign. So he reached out to hold Hajime’s chin with his fingers, tilted his face up, then brought their lips together. And it didn’t take long for Hajime to reach for Tooru’s hips and pull him closer. 

They kissed each other for a long moment; it was better than any of the ones he’d ever dreamed about. 

Then Hajime pulled back as he slid a hand up to caress Tooru’s cheek. “I love you, too.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This song](https://youtu.be/FwLsVkJHOjg) inspired how I wrote this story. So give it a listen if you'd like.
> 
> After this chapter ended, Tooru and Hajime had lunch together. Then Tooru showed Hajime the sculpture. Hajime teased Tooru about it, but he actually thought it was really sweet. 
> 
> Hajime then told Tooru about how he'd survived the shipwreck and why it had taken him so long to get there after (he lost his luggage during the chaos of the ship sinking and didn't have money for travel once he got to shore, so he had to spend a couple weeks working an odd job to get enough money to ride in a stage coach to get to Tooru’s new town. And he had Tooru’s address memorized, luckily. He'd had no idea that Issei and Takahiro heard about the shipwreck and told Tooru about it. He figured Tooru would have just thought he was late due to travel delays).
> 
> That night, Tooru and Hajime slept better than either of them had in years. It just felt so good to be together again. 
> 
> They became good friend with Daichi and Koushi. Double dates and all that, but in secret since they couldn't be "out" in those days. The four of them got along really well. 
> 
> And they lived happily ever after T_T


End file.
